


The Spider's Lair

by sniperct



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Cowboys & Cowgirls, Cunnilingus, F/F, Face-Sitting, Jealousy, Light Bondage, Poker, Porn With Plot, Sex for Money, Shameless Smut, Threesome - F/F/F, WIdow is Miss Kitty, Wall Sex, old west au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-16
Updated: 2018-11-19
Packaged: 2019-08-24 10:50:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16638524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sniperct/pseuds/sniperct
Summary: A combination saloon and cathouse, the Spider's Lair has been run by Amélie since Ana Amari disappeared. One of her regulars is the town doctor, Angela Ziegler, who's also unfortunately in love with her.Amélie looks forward to nothing all that unusual for her night, until a newcomer steps through the doors and plans change.





	1. The Spider's Lair

**Author's Note:**

> IDEK

It was quiet in the saloon today. Some of the regulars were playing cards in the corner, the good doctor cleaning up as she usually did. Amélie met her eyes as Angela sipped from her glass, and was rewarded by a blush.

Good, she _always_ enjoyed making Angela’s toes curl, just as she enjoyed helping her spend _all_ that money she was making.

And just to make sure _Dr. Ziegler_ didn’t forget about her or who she could be spending those chips that she was winning on, Amélie sauntered over to the table, violet skirts swishing around her feet. She ran her fingers up Angela’s arm as she settled into her lap, then slid her hand across the nape of Angela’s neck. “Bonjour, doctor. How are our winnings looking today?”

Angela’s eyes darted to breasts barely contained in Amélie’s dress and then back up to her face, cheeks colored. “ _Our_ winnings?”

She leaned her head in, breathing into Angela’s ear and smiling when the woman shuddered underneath her. “Oui.”

“Oh come _on_ now.” Jesse, one of the regulars in the saloon, threw up his hand. “We’re tryin’ to play cards here, we don’t need ya helpin’ Angie out.”

“I don’t need any help,” Angela said, indignation and offense in her voice, even as she fought valiantly against the shivering Amélie’s fingers were drawing out of her by stroking the back of her neck. “It’s not my fault that I have the perfect poker face.”

Amélie traced anoterh finger over the shell of Angela’s ear and the woman on Angela’s left snorted. “I think she’s actually helping us out.”

“Listen here, Olivia.” Whatever Jesse had been about to say was interrupted when the table jerked as someone kicked him under it. 

“Please do not damage my tables.” Amélie eyed Olivia. “You still owe me for the mirror behind the bar. And for the glasses.”

Feigning innocence, Olivia touched her hand to her chest. She looked ravishing in a vest, the shirt under it dashingly unbuttoned. “How dare you accuse me of such things. How do we know _you_ didn’t break the mirror?”

“I don’t think Miss Lacroix was the one dancing on the bar with two of her girls.” 

Amélie slid her eyes to the man on Jesse’s left. “Indeed, Monsieur Wilhelm. Though technically they are _Ana’s_ girls, not mine. Not… yet.”

“You are doing a fair job in her absence, liebchen.” Angela stroked Amélie’s cheek as she raised the bet, thumb caressing across the skin there. “So until she returns, they are _your_ girls.”

Sliding her arm around Angela’s shoulder, Amélie allowed herself a brief moment to clench her fingers into the cloth, nails digging in. Under the table, Angela squeezed her knee in reassurance. 

The doors swung open and she turned her attention away from the game to see who entered. It was a short man, gruff and handsome in a rugged, lived in sort of way.

“ _Hello_ ,” Olivia murmured, eyebrows rising and spine straightening.

“Could you _not_ steal my business?” Amélie quipped, before raising her voice and calling out to the man. “Weapons locked away, Monsieur Howlett! You know the rules!”

“I’ll buy him a drink if that makes you feel better.” Olivia folded and rose from her seat like a cat on the prowl, making a bee-line to the man as he locked his pistols and a wicked looking knife into one of the safes by the door.

“And now we are down to three!” Reinhardt declared, slapping his hand on the table with a boisterous laugh. He winced when Amélie gave him a warning look about the safety of her table, and patted the table apologetically. “Sorry, sorry mein friend.”

Jesse blew a lock of hair out of his eyes as he studied his cards, looking between Angela and Reinhardt. Amélie studied him in turn, her finger returning to Angela’s ear; the doctor leaned into the gentle stroking. Her eyes flicked down to Angela’s hand, face impassive.

Angela smuggly pushed half her chips into the pile and held Jessees eyes. “I raise.”

“ _Verdammt!_ ” Reinhardt whistled, and tossed his cards down on the table. “Olivia had the right idea! I fold.”

“You best catch up with them then,” Amélie said, smiling.

Reinhardt’s face flushed and he ran a large hand through his grey hair. “Ah, that is not what I meant. Not with Olivia there.”

“Take my word for it, Howlett is a _good_ time,” Jesse murmured, tearing his eyes from Angela’s and fixing them on the pot. He reached for his drink. “Now ya’ll shut up I’m tryin’ to think here.”

“Olivia once said she wanted to climb you like a tree, Reinhardt,” Angela said, voice like honey though her eyes were on Jesse.

Jesse inhaled his whiskey down the wrong pipe, coughing and beating his chest. Through watery eyes he turned a look at Reinhardt. “Touch my sister, Wilhelm, an’ we’re gonna have a problem.”

Reinhardt just laughed. “No worries, mein friend! But perhaps you should leave it up to her who’s hands she wants on her.” He shook his head, leaning back in his chair and staring at the wall.

Amélie followed the direction of his gaze, to where a picture of Ana Amari hung. She looked back at him and nodded in understanding; even if Olivia was not so many years his junior, his heart lay elsewhere.

But with every year that passed, she was more and more certain that Ana was not returning. Guilt hung on her like a cloud, and she shook the feeling off and purred in Angela’s ear. “If you win this hand, _Ange_ , you can have me all night for _half_ the price. You would like that, non? To make me purr your name?”

Angela went still, eyes moving to Amélie as Amélie pulled her head back. It wasn’t fair, she knew. Toying with Angela’s emotions this way. But she enjoyed too much the desire that burned in her eyes and the way Angela’s body pressed so needily into hers. Maybe, perhaps, the feeling wasn’t entirely unmutual.

McCree shifted, chewing on the end of his cigar. Then, very slowly, he put his cards face down on the table, sighing heavily. “I ain’t got shit. I fold.”

“Yes!” Angela let out a low woop, and threw her cards down; a pair of deuces and nothing else.

Jesse’s jaw dropped open as Reinhardt burst into laughter, Amelia’s throwing her head back and laughing with him.

“If you want to keep going, your shirt is very nice.” Angela moved her hand around Amélie’s waist and holding her possessively, eyes glittering with amusement.

“Bah.” Jesse waved his hand. “Been playin’ with you for years an’ you still win my pants half the time.”

“Way more than half the time,” Angela replied. “It’s a pity they never fit.”

Amélie stroked her fingers under Angela’s chin, tilting her head up and giving her a long, lingering victory kiss. Angela whimpered into it, their breath mingling for several seconds after it over.

With even movements, Amélie escaped Angela’s grasp, Angela’s eyes tracking her as she moved fluidly towards the bar where Olivia and Howlett were chatting. She narrowed her eyes at the bottle on the bar between then and then sighed as she added it to Olivia’s tab. “Just because you are the barkeep does not mean you can help yourself.”

“Then what’s the point?” Olivia asked, eyes twinkling.

“Servin’ other people.” Howlette nodded at Amélie in greeting before turning his attention back to Olivia.

Olivia grinned back. “God knows I’m good at _serving_.”

“ _Merde_ ,” Amélie muttered, sliding back into her chair. God save her from these people.

The doors swung open, the heat from outside drifting over to the bar. Amélie craned her neck, trying to see the newcomer shadowed by the sun outside. The door closed, and a woman stood there, wearing a black hat with a matching duster over a dark vest and white shirt. Her hair was white as snow, tied back into a braid that disappeared down her back, and when she looked at Amélie, red eyes glinted.

“Look what the cat dragged in.” Jesse stood by the table where he’d been playing cards, then hooked his thumbs into his belt and sauntered towards the woman, drawling, “ _Liz_.”

“Jess.” Liz spit on the floor in front of McCree. “Didn’t expect to see you’re ugly fucking mug around.”

“Ain’t you still wanted for that train job?” The cigar swung around in his mouth, before he took a drag from it.

“They caught the real culprit,” she said, starting to slip past him. He grabbed her arm and in the space of an eyeblink she’d drawn a revolver and had it pressed against his chin hard enough to leave a mark.

Amélie clucked her tongue, the rifle she kept hidden spinning into her hands. She sighted Liz down the barrel and purred sweetly. “No weapons. So you’ve got three choices, _cherie_. Leave. Put your weapons in a locker, or get a bullet between your devil eyes.”

Slowly, Liz pulled away from McCree and made a show of swinging a locker over. Two revolvers, a gorgeous rifle that made Amélie’s stomach tighten, a derringer, and a half dozen knives all went into the locker. Liz took her key and slipped it into her pocket. “That better, sugar plum?”

“Oui.” Amélie lowered her rifle, ignoring the pet name as beneath her. To her left, back at the table, Reinhardt sat back down.

Smiling cockily, Liz gave her a mock bow. “Elizabeth Caledonia Ashe, and who might you be?”

“Amélie.” She studied the woman, wetting her lip as Ashe swaggered towards the bar. 

“Calamity Ashe is more like it,” McCree said. He spun his hat onto his head and searched for his own locker. “Liz, don’t fuck with any of these people. I know where you sleep.”

“Wouldn’t _dream_ of it.” She swung herself onto a stool, spinning around and leaning back against the bar as she watched McCree walk out.

Slowly, Olivia put down the bottle she’d picked up as an impromptu weapon. She glanced at Amélie, and Amélie nodded once at her. Relaxing, Olivia took Howlett’s hand to drag him off. “This is getting too exciting for me today. Hey Ashe, later Ashe.”

“You? Wary of excitement?” Angela wasn’t really looking at Olivia as she passed, eyes instead focused on Amélie.

Amélie tilted her head thoughtfully; she’d been in this business long enough to recognize jealousy. So she did the natural thing, slipping out of her chair and taking one of the stools next to Ashe and leaning forward. “Welcome to the Spider’s Lair.”

“Lookin’ at me like I’m prey. I think I like it.” Ashe’s eyes dipped as she slid a cigarette out of her pocket, flipping it between dexterous fingers before offering it to Amélie.

Taking it, Amélie slowly placed it between her lips, enjoying the shift in Ashe’s eyes and even more the tightness in Angela’s jaw as she stood behind the stranger. 

Ashe had a light for her, smoothly flipping the lighter open and holding the flame steady for Amélie. 

“Merci.” Taking a long drag, Amélie focused on Ashe while still noting the way Angela stood so tensely. She didn’t mind. The more she worked Angela up the more exciting it would be later. Angela so rarely took charge, preferring instead to give control to Amélie most of the time as an outlet for her work. 

But tonight Amélie would prefer to be the one taken. She almost _needed_ the relief, enough to consider giving Angela a freebie. But if Angela were jealous, Amélie might get her wish. “So you are familiar with our McCree?”

“We go back aways.” Ashe waved her hand, eyes flashing as they raked over Amélie again. “I’m more interested in the future, sugar plum.”

“And what do you think the future holds for you, Elizabeth?”

Ashe leaned her chin on her fist, smiling in delight. “S’pose it depends on how much it’ll cost me.”

Amélie’s eyes flicked to Angela’s face, watching the emotions ignite there. “I am afraid I am spoken for tonight.”

“Well. If that ain’t a shame...”

A large purse landed on the bar, jangling with heavy, heavy coin. Amélie’s eyes widened, but before she could say anything a _second_ coin purse landed next to it, just as heavy.

 _Heavier_.

“I don’t like _sharing_ ,” Angela said, leaning her hip against the bar. “But perhaps I can be convinced.”

Ashe’s face lit up as she looked at the doctor. “I’m game if ya’ll are.”

And Amélie realized she was in deep, deep trouble.


	2. This Bed is Just Big Enough for the Three of Us

There’d been a few things Ashe had noticed in those first few minutes that she’d entered the building, but the only thing relevant to the moment was that the blonde doctor was in love with Amélie.

She _almost_ pitied her. Love was pain enough that Ashe had given up on it years ago, but loving a scarlet lady? That was infinitely worse.

The good doctor was fucked.

And it was so obvious just how fucked she was, in the way Angela pushed Amélie against the wall, kissing her as her hands struggled with the pretty dress. 

Ashe gave them a few moments, unlooping her belt and shrugging her coat off and watching them like one of those erotic shows she, Jesse, and Bob had snuck into in Paris. The one with that beefy Swiss woman and the watermelons.

And hell, she’d sure _paid_ for a show tonight, though she was positive she wouldn’t have needed to given enough time to charm the woman. But Ashe wasn’t always the patient sort and with Angela breathing down her neck she’d figured she had to take the short cut before someone started punching. The thought of the attractive blonde throwing the first punch was kind of a turn on.

Angela had managed to get Amélie out of her dress and petticoats by the time Ashe had stripped down to just her panties. She swaggered towards them, trying to read their dynamic and how to best insert herself.

She _had_ two hands, she reasoned, she’d make do.

Amélie seemed like the kind of woman to tie someone to the bed and have their way with them, but she looked content enough with Angela’s hands cupping her breasts and her teeth leaving marks along her shoulder. Like Angela was _claiming_ her.

All righty then. Ashe could work with that. She grabbed Angela by the hair, pulling lightly until Angela let go of Amélie with a protesting moan and leaned back into her. “I think you’re a little overdressed, doc.”

She looked at Amélie, licking her lips as the woman’s chest rose and fell with shallow breaths, then crooked her finger. “Lets help her out.”

That seemed more natural for them, Amélie undressing Angela while Ashe held her, kissing the side of her neck, Amélie running her hands across pale skin. Angela shuddedered, “Fuck…”

Ashe got a good grope in, then let go of her, Angela moving into Amélie and kissing her hard as Ashe followed. She grabbed Amélie’s wrists, holding them against the wall over her head. “Whaddya think, doc? Appetizer afore the main course?”

“Ja…” Angela’s eyes were wide, pupils blown out as she flicked her thumb over Amélie’s left nipple, trailing circles around it before she leaned in and took it into her mouth. 

As Amélie shivered, Ashe drew her face in with her free hand, taking her lips with her own. Amélie’s skin was colder than she expected, and she trailed her fingers down her cheek, her throat, and then into Angela’s soft, silky hair where she held her head, pushing it against Amélie’s breast. Amélie groaned into Ashe’s mouth, a sound and vibration that sent a jolt straight through her.

Her arm was going to get tired at this rate, and she had some better ideas on how she and the doc could get their money’s worth. So Ashe pulled away, taking Angela with her to the foot of the bed. “Y’all sit here, doc.”

She returned to Amélie, who was leaning against the wall, panting lightly. Ashe ran her fingers across Amélie’s hip to her thigh, and brushed them where she could already feel the wetness pooling there. Pulling her hand back, she looked Amélie in the eye as she licked her fingers clean.

Then she guided Amélie over to the bed, making her lay down. Retrieving her tie, Ashe used it to secure Amélie’s arms to the headboard of the bed, then sat on the edge and looked over at Angela, who was drinking the view in like a woman dying of thirst. Turning back to Amélie, she cupped a breast, squeezing it lazily. “Still good, sugar plum?”

“Oui,” Amélie breathed, arching into the touch.

Angela squirmed behind her, skin flushed, the scent of her arousal lingering in the air almost as strongly as Amélie’s. Ashe breathed it in deeply, again enjoying the view of Amélie tied to the bed. “Doc?”

Reacting as though it were an order, Angela knelt on the bed, running her hands from Amélie’s feet, up to her thighs, eyes fixated on the wetness between her legs.

“Make her scream, darlin’.” Ashe reached over, tangled her fingers into Angela’s hair and forced her head down more roughly than was necessary. She grinned wickedly as the doctor took the hint, settling between Amélie’s legs and flicking her tongue around the outside of Amélie’s folds.

Amélie shuddered, rocking her hips and tilting her head back as Angela become more insistent and needy with her mouth, and more clever with her fingers. Ashe returned her attention to Amélie’s pert breasts, absently saying as she stroked and caressed the curve of her breasts. “Ya do know the come hither trick, right?”

Amelia suddenly cried out, hips jerking into Angela’s face and thigh tightening around her head.

“Guess ya do.” Chuckling, Ashe kissed Amélie’s breast, nibbling in the general direction of her nipple, teasing Amélie by never quite reaching it until Amélie cursed her in French and Ashe relented. 

Unable to decide what to do with her hand, Ashe stroked her fingers down Amélie’s belly and into Angela’s hair, massaging her scalp. She slid her hand backup, taking Amélie’s other breast in that hand and pinching her nipple. Amélie moaned loudly and Ashe sat up. “Guess we gotta muffle ya somehow don’t we.”

She felt a hand on her hip, glancing down at Angela as the touch sent fire through her body. “Fuck, but I’m havin’ ya next.”

First though, Amélie needed to be quieted, so Ashe straddled her chest and then pulled herself forward, yanking Amélie’s hair as she ground herself down onto the woman’s mouth.

A flash of aroused anger greeted her in Amélie’s eyes, Angela’s suddenly loud moan filling the room. Ashe loosened her grip in Amélie’s hair a little bit, and stared down challengingly.

Amélie licked her so suddenly that she had to catch herself with her free hand on the wall and didn’t bother to muffle her own sounds. She let go of Amélie’s hair, needing both hands on the wall, eyes locked onto Amélie’s as she rocked her hips in time to Amélie’s tongue. 

“ _Verdammt_ ,” Angela breathed, as she noticed what they were doing. 

“Don’t worry, Angie,” Ashe gasped, eyes snapping shut as her body tensed up. “Ya can get the next ride.”

“We have something for that,” Angela suggested, and the way she said that was enough to set Ashe off. She squeezed her legs around Amélie’s head, shuddering and shivering as Amélie sucked on her clit and flicked her tongue across it, ripping a scream from Ashe.

She went still for a moment, catching her breath and then rolling off of Amélie, sprawling out on her back on the bed next to the tied down woman. She smiled indulgently at Angela. “Tell me y’all got two of ‘em.”

“She does,” Angela said, panting slightly, squirming her legs together and looking at them both with a desperate look in her eyes.

“Sugar plum,” Ashe purred. “How do ya feel about a Doctor sandwich?”

Amélie lifted her head, licking her lips as her eyes locked with Angela’s. “Oui. Sounds delightful.”

**Author's Note:**

> Now that the plot is out of the way...


End file.
